Tears in the rain
by Sith Jesto
Summary: Colonel O'Neill's thought as he tried to survive after he lost his son. Jack O'Neill's 1stPOV


Like to thank my beta, **Mickey** who helped to make this story easier to read and enjoy. And made a few brilliant suggestion tp improve this fanfiction. Read and enjoy.

Warning: _**Jack O'Neill POV **_

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When you died a part of me died as well. I held you as your blood slipped away, and I felt my soul, my light slipping away as well. I stood there among the ones who cried for you on your burial but tears did not come to me.

After everyone left, I stood alone in our home, in your room and raged. About the pain you death cause, what your leaving meant, about the injustice in the fact that you wouldn't get the chance to grow up. And my stoic silence and apparent indifference shattered, emotions threatened to break free because there were no one else, no one for me to be strong for.

I was to suffer my loss alone.

It did not matter what they whispered behind my back at the funeral, because I loved you more then my own life and I would have given anything to hold you in my arms again.. You were my son, my life, my light, my Charlie. But when I was left alone, the demons lashed out. They tore what remained of my soul. The whispers became shouts, comments transformed into deadly wounds. Their judgment was harsh, unforgiving.

After the funeral I went back to your bedroom. I hadn't noticed when the tears started to fall, hadn't noticed when I had fallen to my knees and cried my anguish into your unnaturally silent room. It had so recently been filled with laughter and joy. I curled up as tight and small as I could. My body rocked with the tremors of my pain, cries, and curses.

I cursed the day I was born, the day I became a soldier. Mostly, I cursed the day my stupid mistake, forgetting to make sure the gun draw was locked, tore you away from me so violently and with such finality. _My faulty, it is all my fault. A_nd those words became my mantra. No one was there to deny them. Only your to quiet room. It became the lone witness to my fury, pain, and quilt. It became, a silent testament of what I lost.

With the dawn, my cry became a quiet sob, my anguish a silent sorrow. When the new day came, my stony masked slipped into its place. Because, with the daylight, there were people for to be strong, to support, to lend a shoulder to cry on while I was slowly dying inside. And the only proof of my anguish was my reddened eyes. No one came close to see them, to see through my masks, my false bravado.

They say time heals all wounds. Hours turned into days and the days into weeks, but nothing changed. My strength slipped away, my sorrow consumed my heart and life, and without knowing it, I crossed a line, maybe even lost my mind. One night I found myself at your grave with a gun in my hand. I just stood there and stared at a small angel figure on the gravestone. My hand moved and held the gun to my head to follow you, my beloved son. When I heard your, voice, your angelic, young voice;_Daddy, it's not your time Not yet, but I will wait for you._ My gun fell fallen from my numb fingers to the soft ground at those words. I looked up to the star filled sky, hoping to find you among them, to find a sign that that sweet voice I'd heard was really yours. Not just my failing mind playing cruel games with my heart.

I waited and waited, hour after hour. The sun slowly crept up from the horizon. I saw a tiny falling star flash through the sky. I knew it was the sign I had waited for. I knew, then, that it wasn't my time. Not yet.

The next day the world seemed to turn around for me. General West sent men to get me, to reactivate me. I was nothing but a tool to him, he used me for what was supposed to be a one-way ticket to die on a mission which led me to a planet light years from home.

I thought that was it a way out of my misery, my life. But fate twisted again because I meet Daniel Jackson, and everything changed again.

He looked at me with his pleading blue eyes, so much like your eyes. And I could forget for a time. Forget, so very briefly, how much losing you hurt. After Abydos, with Daniel's help, I found a small measure of peace. Only during the long, lonely nights did your ghost haunt me, and the guilt was there to eat at what was left of my soul. On nights like that I sat on the roof and tried to find my peace amongst the stars.

On one of these nights, I was reactivated the second time. This time, I wasn't being used by a heartless prick. This time, there were new adventures, a new family, and a new cause to fight for. It became easer to forget, from time to time, the shadows that were there, the past that haunted my dreams. There were very rare occasions when I'd find myself thinking back on my life, and my losses. Too damn many losses. On some of those occasions, especially when a mission had gone horribly wrong, I'd find myself thinking about that damn gun again. About how it felt in my hand. How the metal tasted in my mouth. Then I'd think of you and of Daniel. About how he'd risked so much to save me and my team. I'd remember how he made me care again. That stopped those thoughts. It wasn't my time yet. There was still a galaxy, people, to save and Goa'uld to kill.

The time came when everything changed again, when time caught up with my ageing body and dying sole. Something snapped. Something was lost and every good thought and feeling was over flood with suffering, death, and pain. Too much pain. So I now find myself standing at your grave in the rain.

"It is too much, it's been too long, I can't bare it anymore." Whispers die on my lips, "Oh Charlie, I wish you was here to see what I've seen, to meet who I've meet. So I can hear you laugh, can hug you, mess up your hair…." Sobs choke my voice, as the memories assault my mind, memories of you, my life. Tears escape my eyes; they slide down my cheek and disappear in the rain.

"_Daddy, don't cry."_ A soft angelic voice reached my ear. I whip around to face the source of the voice. And here you stand before me, my Charlie. Like before …before you died, my knees go weak, my mind fails to work any more.

"Cha… Charlie." I reach out with a shaky hand to touch you, to feel you again. But what if you're not real, what if I really am losing my mind. My hand falters in mid air, I can't bare to know if you're not real. I start to drop my hand back to my side when you grab me, and all my strength dissolves to nothingness. I drop to my knees, pulling you toward me, smelling his familiar smell, kissing his soft hair, and hugging him to me.

"Daddy?" Your voice is so heartbreakingly familiar. Even after all these years, I remember it as if we just spoke to each other yesterday.

"Oh, Charlie. Please, don't leave me again. I can't go on anymore. Please…"

You pull away, look in my eyes, and smile. And I know everything will be all right.

"I came for you, Daddy. If you wanna come with me, you can." God, how I've missed your smile, a mirror image of my own when I was your age.

"I'll go with you."

My eyes close when the white light closes around us and we leave this world together.

THE END


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